All usual disclaimers apply. If you don't like M/M relationships, than I'm wondering what you're doing on this site. Further, if you are not legally of age in your country, please return to the previous page.
This story is a fantasy, any resemblance with reality is purely coincidence.
This is my first attempt of writing and publishing a story and (British) English is only my third language, so I know there will be mistakes in the text. If however you find them to flagrant, please email me.
Comments are welcome, just send them to ace_of.spades@live.be
_________________________ Chapter 1: Second chances
We -- me and some other guys -- lived on the outskirts of Greater London, in a small, poor neighbourhood. A squat to be exact, in a dirty, deserted street. Most people on our block were illegal immigrants or small criminals or other people living in the margin of society. If you're wondering what kind of scum we are: we're whores. No need to disguise it. We're not proud of it, but it's better than begging.
I'm David. 22. Orphan since I was 7, my parents died in a plane crash. I've been to several foster families, but I never seemed to blend in. You could say I was a problem child. So I decided to search my luck in the City. And eventually I ended up here, working as a prostitute. I gain enough to make a living, that is to buy food and clothes.
I'm about 6ft1 with a lightly muscled body (whenever I find there's a little money left, I make a trip to the swimming pool. It helps me forgot my life -- do you know the feeling? When you're just lazily floating on the water...) and a nice patch of chest hair running down my pecs towards my boxers. My skin is pale, but I like it that way. Light brown curls, grey eyes and stubbles on my cheeks and chin. (Razors are expensive and most of my customers like me that way.)
Almost every guy in the squat were whores. Jack, a 20 year old black guy; Harry, 20 year old redhead and Sean, our chav of 19. Until a couple of weeks there was Ian too. But after a rather unpleasant `business meeting' we found him unconscious at the beginning of the street. Harry had called an ambulance and we had the paramedics loading him in the car from our house. We know he left the hospital about a month ago (a friend of ours had informed at the hospital) but we haven't seen him ever since. There was a new guy though. Romeo. A naïve guy of 17. He ran away after his father found out he was gay. He told us how he had seen him in the front garden, one of Romeos gay porn magazines in one hand, a heavy leather belt in the other. And then he decided to take a run for it. He's young and inexperienced. He only does blowjobs and handjobs. Willingly that is.
It was nearly 5 o'clock in the morning when I heard a car pull over. The brakes shrieked loudly, a carport opened and closed little afterwards and the car left again with a roaring engine. The backdoor opened and I heard someone climbing the stairs carefully. There were soft sobbing sounds too. I sat up and waited. My patience was rewarded when I saw Romeo entering the room, stumbling to his mattress in the corner of the room. He strangled his crying in his pillow.
Hearing him whimper like this made me feel bad. I got up and went over to his bunk.
`Are you okay?' I whispered. He looked up at me. His face was dirty and the pungent smell of piss hung over him. His tears had left a clean trace on his cheeks, there was dried up sperm in the corners of his mouth and marks on his wrists. His shirt was completely ripped and his jeans were torn. Trails of blood mixed with cum ran down his thighs.
`We've got to clean you up, come on.' I grabbed him by his shoulders, he didn't resist, just let me lift him and carry him to the dirty little bathroom. I helped him take off his shirt and trousers, ripping a piece of it and wetting it in the bucket of clean water we kept in here.
`Can you spread your legs a little?' I asked him. He nodded vaguely and spread them. Tears were still running down his face. I dabbed the wet cloth on his thighs, washing away the blood and dirt, and slowly made my way upwards. He sighed when I carefully cleaned his raw red hole. It had finally stopped bleeding.
`Was that the first time you..?'
Yes.' His voice was hoarse and shivered. It'll get better. First times just always suck.' He gave me a watery smile as I got up and started washing his body.
I know.' His voice was barely audible. My first kiss was with a gross fat grandpa. My first blowjob got me flaccid in no time. My first...' he grew silent and tears welled up again.
I took him in my arms and gently cradled him.
`Let's try to get some sleep' I said, lifting him up in the air and carrying him back to my mattress. I rummaged through the sports bag which contained all my belongings and gave him an old pair of boxers and a shirt. It took some time before he got them on, so I waited.
`Thank you,' he muttered.
`No biggie.' I laid myself down and looked at him. For a moment, he glanced at his own mattress in the corner, but decided then to lie himself down next to me. His warm breath tickled the bare skin of my pecs. It felt surprisingly good. He crawled closer against me, and I couldn't resist the temptation to put my arm around him, before lingering off to sleep.
I woke up around noon. Alone. For some reason I felt a little embarrassed for having thought -- wanted- that he would still be in my arms now. The room was deserted and I got up. I found some toothpaste in a pocket of my bag and quickly brushed my teeth in front of the broken mirror.
I set off in the warm afternoon sun and took the underground to the City. I bought a cappuccino and two pieces of cheese pie, not the healthiest breakfast, but definitely the most delicious one. I wandered around, went window shopping in Oxford Street and then decided to take a look at the artists and tourists in Covent Garden. I sat down on the pavement, looking at the masses that passed, the living statues in the lane, the street artist who were singing and dancing or performing other tricks. A little girl with brown curls darted around a silver coloured imitation of the statue of liberty, threw in some pennies and nearly jumped out of her skin when the statue moved to greet her. I chuckled at the sight.
When the clock hit 9 o'clock I left and went back to the underground station. It still was a little early, but the earliest clients were often the most decent. The later it got, the dirtier the requests.
It was only a short ride to the neighbourhood where we sold ourselves. There were a lot of cheap hotels there and it wasn't that far from the business district, so it was a perfect place to prostitute.
I went to my usual spot, in the shadows of a tree and close by a public restroom. The fluffy clouds from this afternoon had flocked together and turned the sky ominous gray. I hoped to get picked up before it started to shower. Unfortunately, that didn't happen. There weren't many guys driving by, and they definitely weren't after me. I saw them pull over for a couple of leather guys and a transvestite. I sighed and disappeared in the collar of my jacket. The wind was blowing harder and the first drops were splashing down. I stood there until midnight, soaked to the bone and decided to call it a day.
After counting the money that was left from two days ago, I found that it would be better to walk home instead of taking a cab. It took me almost an hour to get back to the squat, and the storm only seemed to gain strength. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
It was a relief to be home again. There was no one else, except for Romeo who was sleeping on his mattress and a junkie blowing in the bathtub (I discovered when I had to take a leak). I got rid of my wet clothes and put on a dry pair of boxers and a my favourite blue T-shirt. It had been a gift from my first boyfriend, and every time I wore it I still thought I could smell a hint of his perfume.
There was a loud rumbling, and I saw Romeo jump up. He looked around with small eyes, his hair a mess.
It's just a storm,' I reassured him. He smiled at me. Are you feeling a little better?'
`A little. Though my ass still hurts like hell.' He was still wearing my shirt. And boxer, I thought to myself, judging by the bright blue waistband that came just over his worn jeans.
`I haven't had the time to find my some new clothes. But I promise you'll get them back good as new.'
`You can keep them. They were a little tight on me and they seem to fit you great.' He blushed. Until now I hadn't really looked at him. He had a pretty face with green eyes and pronounced cheekbones. His short black hair was a mess. My wrinkled shirt followed the curves of his lean olive skin.
You know, it can only get better from now one. Shall I tell you something?' He nodded with a curious look in his eyes. I walked over to him and sat down next to him. My firsts sucked too.' He gave me puzzled look. `I was 14, she was 16 and wore a retainer. Let's just say that I didn't lock lips with anyone for a long time.'
He laughed, a clear heartwarming sound, and so did I. After a while we were done laughing and just sat there.
`You want a do over?'
`What?'
`A do over,' I answered, crawling a little closer.
`Do what over?' there was a small glance of fear in his eyes.
`Your first kiss.' For some reason, I felt my cheeks glowing when I answered his question. He looked at me, a little uncertain, as if he didn't fully understand what I just had proposed to him. I moved closer, very slowly, but he raised his hands defensively. I backed down a little, but he didn't push me further away. It seemed like he didn't know what to do with his hands, pull me in or drive me further away. Finally he just put them on my chest, I could feel their warmth through my shirt. He came a little closer, but hesitated and stopped again. It was all I needed to know.
Our lips touched, gently, no lust or sex involved, just a sweet first kiss. The way they ought to be, I thought to myself. Time seemed to have stopped, it was just me and him frozen in this timeless scene. After what seemed an eternity we parted again. A little thread of saliva still linking our lips. He opened his eyes again, his watery green eyes staring in mine.
Tears started running down his face again. I took him in my arms and laid us down on the mattress again. It didn't take long till we were both sleeping soundly.